


Know Better/No Better

by melanie1982



Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: F/M, Linda was okay, Love, Second Chances, but seriously Jackie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: Life goes on in fits and starts.Set after Linda's death.I own nothing. I make no money from this work of fiction.





	1. Chapter 1

When you lose someone, you find out who is *truly* there for you. Some shy away, wrapped up in denial or self-interest or their own helplessness to ease your pain. Others step up - with a meal, a call, or a night out. 

Jackie had offered all three. You opened the door, and there she was, dressed in casual civvies, cradling a casserole dish with both hands, a condolence card perched on top.

She tried to speak, but the tears got in the way.

You listened as she apologized; it had taken days of calling in several favors to get your new number and address.

Having her there felt like a piece of the past had been returned to you, a link to a time when Linda was alive. Jackie had once been 'work wifey', a role she'd borne with grace and humor. Seeing her again, having her care - it had been healing. Jackie took you out of the house, out of yourself. As you'd dressed for your trip down memory lane, the future had been a blank, but by night's end, you'd taken a few new mental shots for your life's album.

It had been a beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Jackie picked you up, she'd taken you to a rowdy bar and watched you drown your sorrows, all while she stuck to her one-drink-only protocol.

One barmaid in particular seemed to hover, so the two of you made a bet on who could get her number first. You'd won, and Jackie had teased you something rotten. It felt like a set-up, but a man needs reassurance every once in a while, you know?

The drive home had taken a detour, Jackie pointing out the sites of old glories like a tour operator: "Remember that big drug collar, Danny? That's the warehouse where it went down." You shivered as her car passed the place where Jackie had been run off the road by dirty cops, but she didn't seem to react.

You stared at the napkin in your hand, trying to decipher the name - Kimberley? Kelsey? You knew you'd never call the girl, but the napkin was a milestone, a marker on the road to acceptance and closure.

Jackie was the closest thing you'd had to a date since Linda died, and that was both funny and sad at the same time.


	3. Chapter 3

The one-off nostalgia night had soon become a monthly thing. That particular night, the night that changed it all, you'd almost cried off, but, walking into your father's house, the sound of female laughter had washed over you. The sight of Jackie, Erin and Grandpa all poring over old photos of you had stopped you in your tracks. Jackie had softened during her leave of absence; sure, she was still a ball-buster, but there was a gentleness, a sweetness to her. Had it always been so?

Sensing the change in mood, Jackie opted for a corner table in a different venue. On the way there, windows down, "Goin' Out Tonight" pouring from the stereo, Jackie had tapped out the beat on the steering wheel and used your own long-ago words: "I heart New York." That night was Jackie's turn to drink. There was no discussion of it; it was just how things played out. Even with a few drinks in her, the woman was guarded, alert. You dismissed your earlier perception of her, putting it down to exhaustion.

You drove her home in her own car, and she stood with you out front as you waited for a taxi. A neighbor began to blare "Desposito," and Jackie laughed, asking if you remembered how the two of you would have impromptu dance-offs to ease the stress of the job. You made a quip about a 240.20 in progress, but Jackie was having fun.

"C'mon, dance with me, partner!" As Jackie made a misstep in her heels, you caught her, and time stood still. Her breath was on your neck, then your cheek, as she sought to right herself. You looked at her. The last time you'd physically been this close had been the night Jackie had almost died at the hands of a serial killer. Did she remember the talk you'd had before that, or hear the words you'd almost said? As if reading your mind, the taxi arrived, its driver tooting the horn. You leaned in, and - 

"Go home, Danny." It was said kindly, quietly, even, but it was said.

"Jackie.. I don't.. I don't know if I can keep doin' this. Meeting up with you. It's.."

She seemed defeated, but didn't argue. "Yeah. I.. Maybe you're right."

The horn tooted twice, and you released her, turning to go -

But Jackie pulled you back in. Her lips were softer than you'd imagined, and your body registered the shock of doing something you now knew you'd wanted to do for a long, long time. 

After another horn blare, Jackie made a one-finger gesture at the cabbie, and he drove off into the night.

Still breathing her in, the two of you stumbled over the threshold and into her ground-floor apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

You'd been a good friend, making Jackie drink two full glasses of water before helping her into bed. The loveseat in her bedroom was too short for you to stretch out, and watching her sleep had been a sweet torture - your penance for some unnamed sin. Lust? Coveting? Emotional adultery?

You replayed the night of the undercover op, paraphrasing your exchange. How could she not have known? How could YOU not have known?

"I worry about my family, and the people I care about. Which includes you, in case it wasn't obvious."

"Thank you. I just.. I need you to have my back, I do. I just don't need you to protect me, you know? There's a difference."

"I've lost a lot of partners, and.. I just, I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me."

Minutes later, Jackie had almost died in your arms.

There had been other close calls, times you'd almost crossed a line and said things which could never be unsaid. At the bar, after the counter-terrorism case, Jackie had called you out over keeping her in the dark regarding an undercover cop's identity. She had accused you of not trusting her. You'd almost told her how much she meant to you, fueled by adrenaline and relief, mixed with alcohol - but that moment had passed. How many times had you felt this pull towards her, this deep bond? 

Morning arrived, and with it, awkward tension.

"You're still here," said Jackie, sounding amazed and confused.

"Yeah." You handed her a drink - more water - with two aspirin.

"Ah, jeez. We didn't, uh.. I mean.. What happened last night?"

You resisted the urge to toy with her, to make up embarrassing stories about her behavior. "Just a kiss. Well, a couple of kisses, but - "

Jackie's head dropped into her hands, and, for a moment, you wondered if you could still play it off as a joke, spare her feelings, salvage your pride... 

"So I kissed you, and you slept on my sofa. You didn't take advantage of me." She wasn't asking, merely considering it aloud. "Reagan..?"

"Yeah, Jack?"

It was a brief pause, but it seemed to last an age.

"Get your ass over here."

Waiting had been better - much, much better. Jackie's aching head had been soothed by all the tenderness you could muster, and your conscience, although not silenced, was not screaming at you. You had let her decide, sober, unpressured, and Jackie had chosen to be with you.

Now, as you dressed, wondering what the hell you'd tell your family, worrying what this would mean for your friendship, pondering a trip to confession, Jackie purred in her sleep.

You'd seen something special in this woman long ago, and now, there was nothing in the way.. except your own fear of losing her in a way you'd never before imagined.


End file.
